Page 111 of Make-Believe Match

“Can we fight it?”

“I don’t think so. And what would our reason be? We know this marriage is temporary? We only got married so I could inherit?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to do that. I don’t want Gran to look at me with disappointment.”

Devlin turned around and faced me. Folded his arms over his chest. “We could stay married until then.”

I took a breath. “Five years is a long time.”

“Yes.”

“You have plans for those years, and I’m not about to trap you here.” I took a breath and forced myself to say the words I had to say for his sake. “You should take that job in California. It’s everything you want. Everything you deserve.”

He looked out the window into the darkness without saying anything for a moment. “What if we stayed married long-distance?”

His tone was practical. Businesslike. Without emotion.

Which was why that wouldn’t work.

“No.” My throat constricted, and I shook my head emphatically. “I don’t want that. You don’t really want that.”

“But it could work. We could tell Gran we needed the income, and—”

“The whole point of the will in the first place was because Gran doesn’t want me running the resort on my own. She and my grandfather thought it was too much for one person. And to be honest, Devlin, it might be. The past couple months have been eye-opening for me—I don’t necessarily agree with the whole ‘you must be married to inherit’ bullshit, but I can see why they didn’t want me tackling it alone.”

He didn’t say anything. His jaw was clenched tight.

I took a shuddery breath and forced myself to say the next thing. “And it’s not just the resort who needs someone to stay, Devlin. I do too.”

His eyes closed. He nodded.

It was a window. Would he open it? Say the words?

In the silence that followed, I had my answer.

“We tried, Devlin.” My voice trembled. “But we can’t win.”

His chest expanded as he inhaled. His eyes came back to mine. “So this is what you want?”

Of course, it wasn’t. I wanted him to smash that window, jump through it, and carry me from this burning house to safety. Buthehad to want that too.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I swiped at them with both hands. “I don’t think we have a choice. Take the job in California.”

He appeared to struggle for words. “I don’t want to leave you.”

But I have to.The subtext was there beneath his regret.

“I appreciate that.” I forced myself to say the words I knew he needed to hear to live his life the way he wanted. “Look, we gave this our best shot. And I’ll always be grateful that you were willing to do this crazy thing for me.”

“What will you do?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me.”

“Lexi.”

I stood up. “You know what? I’m not really that hungry right now. I think I’m just going to take a shower and get ready for bed.”

He opened his mouth like maybe he’d argue with me—and God, God, I wanted him to—but instead he just nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Thanks.” I hurried out of the kitchen before I melted down into an ugly cry or, worse, threw myself at his feet and begged him to love me. Inside the bathroom, I turned on the shower, but rather than get in, I lowered the lid on the toilet, sat down, and sobbed wretchedly, hoping the noise of the water covered the sounds.